


The Rain Will Fall, and With It, The Truth

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate First Confessions of Love, EFA Fic Challenge 2018, F/F, Weather Symbolism, because I wasn't satisfied with 2x08 being the first time Nicole said it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Something about the weather makes her contemplative, and if she’s being honest, she’s sick of it. It’s been this way for days, anticipatory and oppressive, and it puts her on edge, as if she’s waiting for something she isn’t even aware of. The hope of something more, the search for whatever exists beyond what she already knows, and the “what if’s” are making her restless.Nicole sits beside her, observant and silent, but her hand rests on Waverly’s thigh, fingertips stroking lightly every now and then, maybe to remind her she’s there, or maybe just because she wants to touch her.“Do you ever think that you think...too much?” Waverly finally asks, breaking the silence.





	The Rain Will Fall, and With It, The Truth

It’s dusk, sunset, and Purgatory is quiet besides the howling wind beyond the barn doors. It’s warm and humid, the air is stagnant, and something about it reminds Waverly of her youth— Wynonna’s recklessness the cause of Gus’s anger, broken vases and her own small frame, away from it all in the corner of an empty space that existed both in her home and in her mind. When she was younger the barn was filled with books, yard work equipment, and Christmas presents in the closet, under a sheet she was supposed to stay away from, and she’d found solace amidst chaos here often, alone and unaffected, or so she pretended. Now, in her mid-twenties, more worn down yet more free than ever, she finds the same kind of relief in how much she’s stayed the same, but also how much she’s changed.

She thinks of her memories like they happened hours ago, thinks of the future like a date on a calendar, and can’t figure out how to map the growth she’s had in between. She doesn’t know to describe how she’s loved and lived and hurt and started over again, at least not in a way that makes any sense to anyone but her. She thinks maybe that’s what identity is: foggy borders between the past and the present, transitions that no one sees, scars healing in the dark. It’s a scary process, whether she focuses on the good or the bad, and right when she thinks she’s made sense of her life, things become scrambled again.

Something about the weather makes her contemplative, and if she’s being honest, she’s sick of it. It’s been this way for days, anticipatory and oppressive, and it puts her on edge, as if she’s waiting for something she isn’t even aware of. The sky is a yellow-gray, brutal, as if in waiting, and when Waverly blinks she sees the mountains in the distance, carved a faint silver outline on her eyelids. The hope of something more, the search for whatever exists beyond what she already know, and the “what if’s” are making her restless.

Nicole sits beside her, observant and silent, but her hand rests on Waverly’s thigh, fingertips stroking lightly every now and then, maybe to remind her she’s there, or maybe just because she wants to touch her. Either way, it eases Waverly as she sifts through her thoughts, wishing she could condense them all without the strain.

    “Do you ever think that you think...too much?” Waverly finally asks, breaking the silence, and she’d cringe if she was with anyone but Nicole, because the words aren’t particularly introspective, but they’re honest and that’s what she strives for.

    “Sometimes,” Nicole replies, smoothing her hand along the fabric of her jeans once more. “I definitely analyzed myself way too much in high school, especially as I was figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be. But I think that’s kind of normal for all people, it’s just not something that’s discussed openly a lot.”

Waverly nods, agreeing. “I wish it was, because sometimes I just feel so _off_ and I don’t know why. And I know I have reasons, especially given circumstances and the fact that we research and track down _demons_ as our day job, but still. That’s not even it.”

The wind slows down outside and it adds some intimacy to the moment, making Waverly sigh. “I think I may not be smart enough to even be able to comprehend myself.”

    “Hey,” Nicole stills her hand on Waverly’s forearm, voice firm and gentle. “First of all, you’re ridiculously smart, so don’t even think that. You know more languages than I can even count, so don’t you dare even start with that.”

Waverly ducks her head, blushing, and Nicole tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, skimming her hand intentionally along her cheek in the process.

    “Secondly,” she continues, “that just shows how complex you are and how much there is to your soul. Everyone gets that way someday, but I can’t even imagine how much more magnified it must be for you, given how absolutely _extraordinary_ and beautiful your mind is.”

Waverly scoffs, rolling her eyes before falling into her side, head buried against the open expanse of skin her sweater doesn’t cover, between her shoulder and collarbone.

    “Stop, oh my God,” she whines, and Nicole can tell she’s smiling just from the tone of her voice. “You’re too good to me, but you do realize how much you’re inflating my ego, right?”

    “Yes, but you’re too humble to ever let it get to your head,” Nicole replies, a half laugh that’s gentle and effortless, and Waverly silently swoons again, especially when she feels her girlfriend’s lips brush the hair on the top of her head.

    “I love you,” Waverly says, the words so simply rolling off her tongue it takes a second for her to recognize what exactly she’s said. She’s never admitted to Nicole how she’s felt, not so strongly, at least. It hadn’t been time, not yet, and she’d been waiting for the right moment; a candlelit dinner date, a late night walk through the woods, maybe even after an especially terrifying run in with a revenant, after bruises and too high heart rates. Waverly’s always been a daydreamer, ready to fantasize about the endless variations and possibilities of circumstance, and she’d really planned it out, decided it was too soon.

So she stiffens, unsure despite the truth of her words, and she focuses her gaze on the strip of sky she can see from in between the two barn doors. The clouds have turned darker, a deep sort of maroonish-gray that doesn’t help the twisting feeling in her stomach, and she doesn’t want to meet Nicole’s eyes, doesn’t want to see if she’s biting her lip and shifting her gaze.

 _Mistake, mistake, mistake,_ she thinks, and she’s never been one to say things she didn’t mean, but she didn’t mean to say it now, not here, on the barn floor, surrounded by grass and discarded whiskey nips, doing nothing remarkable and really doing nothing at all.

It isn’t that she’s afraid Nicole doesn’t feel the same way. Waverly knows she _likes_ her, at the very least, but she’s never been with a girl and she doesn’t know if Nicole’s used to a different pace, and she never said she loved Champ first, never really said she loved him at all actually and the fact that she’s loving anyone now— _really_ loving them— is new and scary and complicated, just like everything else in her life.

    “I-” Waverly starts, maybe trying to apologize or take it back or just say something to distract her, but Nicole cuts her off, twisting ever so slightly until her fingers brush her cheek, spanning up to the expanse of hair between her ear and her neck. Her lips find hers, soft and insistent, and Waverly’s taken aback. She’s still for a moment, introspective, and then instantly wonders how she could have ever convinced Nicole that she hadn’t meant it when she’s crumbling like this, melting into her arms, into her mouth, into her smile when she finally breaks away and keeps her fingers against her chin.

    “Waves,” Nicole says, and there’s so much endearment evident in her voice that Waverly’s heart honest to god jumps, thrumming in her chest in a way she’s not sure it ever has before. “I love you too.”

Waverly pulls Nicole back into a kiss, clambering into her lap and hoping she can say more with her mouth and her hands than she can with words, because she was never expecting rejection but maybe something else, a bit more like distance and uncertainty. Nicole is truthful and mature, responsible and unapologetically herself, and it’s more than Waverly has ever known in a consistent friend, let alone a lover. After everything, it’s hard to believe she was lucky enough to earn a kind of love that was fully reciprocated, pure and raw and everything she’s ever needed. But here Nicole is, in her arms, kissing her back with as much ferocity and passion as she can manage, those three words ringing in her ears, and all she can think is _home._

Something about Nicole felt like home all along, and for Waverly that was something she’d searched, to no avail, in most people. When she walked into Shorty’s, fearless and confident and collected, there was something about her that Waverly felt drawn to, even if just as a role model for her own sanity. No one else has ever made her feel so sure, so worthwhile, so eager to find her own happiness and take it, and that’s exactly what she did when she decided it was time they collide at the station in Nedley’s office, exactly what she’s doing now as she speaks the truth and doesn’t regret it.

Nicole’s hands are firm at her waist, lips gentle and warm against her own, and when she finally needs to break away for air, Waverly whispers, “that wasn’t my plan.”

    “What?” Nicole breathes. Her hair is mussed from Waverly’s yearning fingertips, and her lips lift as she moves to fix it.

    “I wasn’t planning on saying that now,” Waverly answers, heart still fluttering too fast, too hard for her own good but she doesn’t care because Nicole’s still looking at her with those eyes and she’s forever falling in them. “I was going to say it next time we had a dinner date or went to the lake or-”

Nicole laughs, taking her hands and dipping her head forward until they’re eye to eye, nose to nose, and Waverly’s still caught up in the moment but all her nerves are gone, erased with the pulsing truth that she loves this woman, honestly and truly, and she doesn’t need to hide it.

    “There’s no such thing as perfect timing,” Nicole says, and then she’s suddenly standing and pulling Waverly to her feet.“But I’d say this was pretty close.”

    “Why?” Waverly starts to say, but then she turns and notices the brightness outside, and follows as Nicole wanders outside, their intertwined hands between them. Waverly steps into the sun, grinning as soon as the first raindrops touch her hair, and she takes a deep breath in of the cool, clean air.

The sky is still an odd bright color, almost sallow, but the clouds are clearing, despite the rain. The humidity in the air is fading, replaced with a familiar chill that Waverly’s more used to, and faint in the sky is an arcing rainbow that sends a rush of adrenaline through her. She can’t remember the last time she’s seen the colors so perfectly aligned in the sky, a natural phenomenon that she’d presented a whole project on in fifth grade and found a quick fascination with. The weather in Purgatory has always fluctuated radically and never been quite exactly comfortable, but the frequent rain and the light that came with it was always her favorite. When she looks at Nicole, sun bathed with her face to the sky, she thinks she’s never loved it more.

    “And here I was thinking we were going to have a tornado,” Nicole marvels, still admiring the sky. A raindrop falls on her eyelash, and then her cheek, and Waverly fights the urge to kiss it away, instead watching as she lets it slide down her skin.

    “We never have tornadoes here,” Waverly says, and she giggles but her response is distant, delayed. She’s too busy thinking, this time about how little there is to think about. She doesn’t want to put too much dependency into Nicole since she’s always wanted to be enough for herself on her own, but she can’t fight the feeling that everything seems so much better with her around. Her mind is clearer now than it was in the dark barn, and maybe it’s the fresh air that helps, but she also knows no words have ever come to her as naturally as those three big ones did mere moments ago.

There’s still so much to worry about, so much to figure out and solve and bring resolution to, but love is going to be at the forefront of everything now; Waverly makes that decision in a split second, takes one look at Nicole stripping down from her sweater to her tank top, damp golden-red hair against pale skin and knows it’s only fair. With a love like this, she can’t imagine why things should be any harder than they need to be and why she keeps herself locked in her mind when the sun is right outside her window. Waverly can sit and think and talk about the circles her mind paces for hours on end, she knows she can do this and she knows Nicole will listen, but neither of them deserve to dwell on the darkness. Life has never been easy, but it’s surely never been better than it is now.  

Waverly takes another deep breath in, gives herself a moment to admire the clearing sky, the dim rainbow, then finds the same colors in Nicole’s eyes. She wraps her arms around her waist, slim and soft, and it feels like _home,_ it really does. Purgatory is just a location, some tiny dot on a map, but this— this is what home feels like. She murmurs another “I love you” against Nicole’s neck, repeating herself because she can, and Nicole says it back before slipping into another kiss, and this time, Waverly really can’t think of anything at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been struggling with a bit of writers' block lately, but had to pull it together to be apart of the first Earp Fiction Addiction Challenge! I missed writing these two angels so much. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and I'm always taking requests in the comments here or at my Tumblr under the same username. Oh, and T-69 days until these two grace our TV screens again!! :')


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